The Wired Man

1

To whoever finds this,

I don't really have much time to explain, but I'll assume you already know who I am. The files you're looking for are on a server called st001br008. It's an old surveillance box from before the Integration. The videos and notes stored there will explain everything. Please hurry.

And if this ever makes its way back to Carissa: I love you, and I'll always be waiting.

—TWM

Personal Entry: The Wired Man

Name: The Wired Man

Employment: Software Engineer, StormQuest Inc.

Score: 1717

Globally Unique Identifier: 032e986d-5i40-4bbe-b9b5-nny58s64l816

I wiped the sweat off my face and stretched my fingers back, trying to work out the tension that had built up over a night of anticipation. Last night's party had been amazing. I had managed to pull off the impossible; I had been able to pull in every contact in my inner circle, minus one, for an entire evening. It was glorious. So glorious, in fact, that when I went to bed I was so amped up on adrenaline I sat staring at the ceiling fan, drifting from one strange dream to another. The first one had been of some giant spiked monster trying to skewer me to a pole and another one had been about werewolves who had built tunnels under the city. The one that woke me up was the simple falling variety, which would have been fine except that I hit the ground.

I squinted and saw the glow of a rising sun fill my apartment. Recognizing the faint signature of morning light, the implant buried inside my brain realized I was awake and fired up the standard heads up display onto my retinas. Temperature: 73 degrees, Forecast: Sunny, Air Quality: Yellow... Social Score: 1717. The point update had finally hit.

"Hot damn."

I tossed the sheets onto the floor and sat up. 1717 was five whole points better than what I had gone to bed with. Carissa is going to wish she hadn't skipped out on me now.

I bounced out of bed and almost tripped on the mess of crumpled blanket. Yellow planks of sunlight framed the curtains of my bedside window, casting a faint silhouette of the city outside. The air inside my apartment was moist, and a cool breeze was pumped out of the vent above my bed. Mornings always were my favorite time of the day. Everything was fresh, ready for the taking.

I kicked the comforter to the side, made my way over to the window, and ripped the curtains open, almost knocking the metal rings off the ends. Sunlight enveloped my body, and I covered my eyes while my implant display switched to direct light mode. Slowly, the landscape of the city dimmed into focus and I began to see the steel spires of the business district pierce above the early morning pollution. Their long, stainless frames, interlaced with a spider web of connecting skywalk tunnels, towered above the chaos of factory workers and basement commuters down below.

People like me worked from the skyways as programmers, engineers, marketing executives - the important jobs. The people down below in the Lowers manned the factories. It was where you went if you didn't score well enough on your high school evaluation or if you screwed up bad enough to get fired. The human fuel that wound the cranks and shoveled the coal that enabled the rest of us to do the real work.

As dad always said, the world needs ditch diggers, too. The thought of my father brought a smile to my face as I arched back to crack my spine.

Carissa had bailed because of some stupid work project. I knew she could have gotten out of it, but she probably thought she had a better chance at points closing the deal her company had been working on with Sidler Systems instead of a birthday party for me. Truth be told, the betting odds were with her. I had never been able to pull this kind of score before, and at the start of yesterday, there had been no indication that my party would be anything more than a few obligatory guests and a couple decimals. I had always been above average but not spectacular. Slow, yet safe.